


Random Drabbles: Fullmetal Alchemist/Star Wars: KotOR

by dogmatix



Series: Random Drabbles [12]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Crossover, Edward Elric is one determined alchemist, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix
Summary: Alphonse Elric has been looking for his brother for two years with no luck.  That's about to change.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based more on the first FMA anime’s logic, instead of FMA: Brotherhood’s. Not that it matters much becuase it’s also VERY AU, since I haven’t seen either of those in quite a while. I’m also iffy on my SW: KOTOR knowledge, so, uh.
> 
> Done on a whim and I completely blame @i-msonotcreative for this.

“AL!” Edward cried, trying to reach back to Amestris and his brother, to undo the alchemical reaction that had plucked Ed out of reality.  It was in vain: the last sparks of the reaction died down, leaving Edward stranded…somewhere.  But this was not the stark white and endless landscape he’d seen before, that first time he’d encountered Truth.

A chill wind moaned across the desolate red landscape.  Edward was only just starting to realize that something had gone very sideways, when a deep, distorted voice spoke behind him.  

<<Well, well, what have we here?>>

The language was foreign, incomprehensible, but the tone was satisfied, maybe a bit curious.  Edward spun around and looked up into a black and red mask.  Letting out a strangled cry, he jumped back, clapping his hands together to try and access his alchemy, but while he could feel it stirring, it was muffled, sluggish. Barely a spark answered his call, and the Fullmetal Alchemist found himself unarmed in this strange new world.

* * *

It was two years after Edward Elric had vanished.

Although not a State Alchemist himself, Al had wheedled Roy Mustang into letting him continue to read through the State Alchemical Library, and to provide him leads on the Philosopher’s Stone.  It had been slow and dangerous going, especially with Scar on the scene, but Al refused to give up on his brother.

On this, the second anniversary of Ed’s disappearance, Al still had no progress to show for his persistence, and he had the feeling that Mustang’s arrival at Risembool meant that the Colonel’s superiors had come down on him for skirting protocol.  Well, Al had read through the entire library already – not needing to eat or sleep helped with that – so it wasn’t like he’d miss the access to it that much.  He’d miss the friends he’d made there, though.

Al wasn’t in Risembool proper, not yet. He’d be a day late, due to travel delays, but he wanted to visit Winry and Grandma Pinako.  They were the closest thing to family he had left.

Turning his focus away from such depressing thoughts, he looked away from the passing scenery and studied his travelling companions – Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, and the car’s driver, Kain Fuery.

“Thank you for driving me,” Alphonse said, his young voice echoing inside the suit of armour Edward had affixed his soul to.

“It’s the least we can do,” Mustang said in a moment of rare openness.  Alphonse guessed the Colonel still felt some guilt over Edward’s fate, whether that was death or disappearance.  At two years since the events that had plucked Edward away, it was starting to feel like the former.

Surely, if Edward had survived, he’d have found a way back by now?

A shiver traced down Alphonse’s non-existent spine.  He squeaked and jerked upright, bumping his helmet against the inside of the car’s roof.

“Alphonse, what’s wrong?” Hawkeye asked.

“Pull- pull over!” Alphonse said urgently as the feeling of an alchemical reaction continued to build.

The car squealed to a stop on the grassy shoulder, and Alphonse stumbled out.  He looked around wildly, trying to pinpoint what was happening, what he was feeling. It was like being in the nimbus of one of Ed’s alchemical reactions, but there was nobody around.  The only building he could see was a barn, but that was three fields over and this felt like it was happening right on top of him. Where was it _coming_ from?

“Alphonse, what’s happening?” Mustang asked, voice sharp.  Sparks were beginning to form in the air around them, and not from Mustang.

“I don’t-“

The air over a patch of grass no different from any other patch of grass ripped open with a feeling like nails on chalkboard, alchemical and electrical sparks scorching the area around it into smouldering ash.

The military trio fell back, Hawkeye and Fuery going to one knee as they pulled (or in Fuery’s case, fumbled) their guns from their holsters. Mustang brought his hand up to ignite his fire, and they all covered their eyes from the flying dust and earth.

Not hampered by having eyes that needed shielding, Al stared in shock as a form materialized out of the roiling chaos. The rip in the air vanished with a pop, leaving scorched earth and the smell of ozone.  The form left behind was a man who stood as tall as Alphonse’s armour.  It was difficult to judge, but he looked about forty years old.  He wore black gloves and a black cloak that hung low, almost touching the ground. The layers of overlapping robes beneath the cloak were dark red like dried blood.  Blond hair hung in disarray to below his shoulders, and a cruel smile sat on his lips.  But worst of all were the eyes – bloodshot, the irises a flat, sulfurous yellow ringed with red.  Dark bruises sat under and around the hellish eyes.

There was a moment of silence, then the figure raised his hand.  A cry of surprise and two muffled curses came from the military contingent as their hands were gripped by an invisible force and dragged skyward.  A bullet from Hawkeye ruffled the air just above the newcomer’s head.  Fuery didn’t even get off a shot.

<<Perfect,>> the newcomer purred in a language unlike any of the ones Alphonse was familiar with.  

“Who are you?” Mustang asked through gritted teeth.

“That’s no concern of yours,” the man replied in perfectly understandable Amestrian. “My business is not with yours.”

“Then, then what do you want?” Alphonse asked, hand creeping towards his waist where he kept his chalk in a small pouch.  He couldn’t draw an array on the grass, but if he could get to the car or the road-

The figure’s other hand rose, yanking Alphonse’s arms skywards, and the entire suit of armour with it. Alphonse let out a startled cry.

“Funny you should ask.”

The figure ignored all further questions  as he walked towards the building Alphonse had spotted earlier – a barn, likely empty at this time of year and this far out from Risembool.  Al and the others floated behind him like a string of ducklings, neat as you please.

“Now do we get some answers?” Mustang asked sharply after the cloaked man had studied the inside of the barn with satisfaction for a moment.

“Maybe,” the figure smirked.  He walked over to a bale of old hay, tapping his thumb and forefinger together, then touching his forefinger to the bale. Alchemical sparks danced for a second, then a piece of paper lay on the bale. Picking it up, the man brought it over to Fury.  “Name?”

“Uh,” Fuery glanced at Mustang.

“Answers first,” Mustang growled.

The man huffed. “Ridiculous person. Ask.”

“What do you want with us?”

“You will fetch me these,” the man waved the page of paper, “then I will let you all go.”

“What’s the catch?” Roy asked, radiating mistrust.

“No catch. You do this, or I move on to other people.  I am not here to kill, but I will if my hand is forced.”

“Why _are_ you here?” Hawkeye asked.

The man’s face went blank, and he took a deep breath, let it out. “There’s something I must do. I have no ambition to seizing power or killing thousands. I’m here for one thing. When I’m finished….. When I’m finished, I suppose I’ll have to decide what to do after.” The smirk this time was self-deprecating.

“So!” the man said, smirk going bright again as Fury’s hands were released from the invisible grip, leaving the young man stumbling to regain his balance, “Name?”

“F- Fuery. Sergeant Major Fuery.”

“Fuery.  You will fetch me these.” He handed the page to Fury, who blinked at it owlishly.

“I- I can’t read this?”

The man looked from Fury to the page, then blew out an exasperated breath. <<Oh for the love of->>  He tapped forefinger and thumb together again, then ran his finger down the page. Fuery’s eyes grew wide as miniature sparks danced on the page and the words restructured themselves on the paper.

“Um. Thanks?”

“And to make sure you don’t phone for help,” the newcomer said, shrugging out of his cloak and revealing a slim bag strapped to his back, “I’m sending HetArtee with you.” He slung the bag off his shoulders and opened it. <<ThreeDee, wake up.>>

<<Master?>>

Al _stared_ as a small metallic….object, rose out of the bag.  An object that _floated_. And _spoke_.

“What is that? How are you doing that?” Al burst out.

“Magic,” the man said, waggling his fingers with a grin.

“Mouuu,” Al complained at the evasion, mind still racing. The floating object looked like it was metal. Was it like him, a human soul trapped in a metal body?

Real amusement flickered over the man’s face.  Turning to Fuery, he nudged the small metal figure – not human, but having something like a head and two arms to go with the spherical body – to sit on the Sergeant major’s shoulder.  “She knows this language, and she’ll know if you try to contact anyone for help.  Make this easy on all of us and just get the things on the list.”

“Okay, but Saltpeter? Fluorine? Where would I even get half of this, um, sir?”

Alphonse went rigid. Those ingredients. He knew those ingredients. No, it couldn’t be. There were plenty of things that required fluorine to alchemize. Right?

“There’s a small alchemy store in Risembool. You should find what you need there.”  The man pulled a small ingot of gold out of the bag. “This should more than cover money. Tell them to keep the change.”

Fuery shot a last, doubtful look at Mustang, but nodded.

“Oh, and HetArtee will tell me right away if you try anything. Think of her like a radio that can talk to me all the time.”

Fuery swallowed and nodded again, then beat feet out of the barn.

The man watched Fuery go, then kept himself busy the next few minutes by tying the three of them up with ropes he alchemized out of various things in the barn, ignoring any further questions. Once he had Mustang, Hawkeye, and Al firmly bound hand and foot, with knots that wouldn’t be coming undone anytime soon, he also divested Mustang his glove, removing the potential for sparks the Flame Alchemist could use.  Alphonse’s stomach dropped, and he could see the grim dismay on Mustang’s face. Whoever the man was, he knew them. Maybe not their names, but what they could do, and how.

Then, they waited. It was three hours before Fuery returned, but the man seemed to be in no hurry. Once they heard the car approaching again, the man stood and dusted off his black pants, going to a large clear area in the barn. This time it wasn’t tapping forefinger to thumb, but clapping both hands together, and then the man knelt and put his hands to the ground. An array burned itself into the earth, shaping circle upon circle. Script wrote itself along the edges as if by an invisible hand, and Alphonse looked on in horror.

It _was_ a human transmutation array. “Please don’t do this!” Al cried.

“Do what?” the man asked.

“Whatever it is you’re planning. Human transmutation- it’s forbidden! It’s wrong! I know you have to be missing someone desperately but please, please don’t do this! It’s not worth it!”

Fuery peered in through the partially ajar barn door, holding a bag with one hand and a box under the other arm.

“That is my decision.” The man beckoned at Fuery, and the young man squeaked as he was drawn into the barn by that same invisible force the newcomer had used when first arriving.

<<ThreeDee, how was the kid?>>

<<He behaved himself,>> the small metal thing replied, patting Fuery’s cheek and making the young man twitch.

“Why did you ask Fuery to get you ingredients?” Mustang asked.

“Why should I not?” the man asked, something too innocent in his voice.

“Because you have three sources of raw materials right here,” Mustang said flatly.

The man snorted. “Maybe now you believe me when I say I’m not here to hurt anyone.”  Ignoring any further questions, the man tied Fuery up as well, then floated all the raw materials into the barn and settled them in the transmutation circle. Picking up his bag again, the man pulled out three pink stones and a small metal pyramid.

Al drew in a breath that was no breath at all. “Philosopher’s Stones!”

“Incomplete ones, yes. Don’t worry, you wouldn’t have liked the people who went into them.”

“That’s not the point!” Al wailed. They were still people! And you’re going to-“

“This karking pile of poodoo has killed children, for fun,” the man said flatly, holding up one Stone. “These ones, well, they did worse,” the man growled, flicking his finger at the second Stone.  “This one was famous for madness and death,” he nodded at the pyramid. “And this is the man who oversaw the slaughter of entire worlds and laughed,” the man held up the third and last Stone.

“Maybe I’m no better for using their souls like this,” the man looked down at the objects, expression closed. He shrugged. “So be it.”

Al sat, dismayed and helpless, as the man positioned the four objects around the perimeter of the circle. “You won’t succeed.”

“No?”

“No. Human transmutation…it doesn’t bring their soul back, just their body.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“But then why are you doing this?” Al asked beseechingly.

“Because I have the soul,” the man said, walking over to Al.

Al glanced over at Fuery, where the small metal thing still perched. “You- you mean HetArcee?”

“No, Al,” the  man said, kneeling in front of him. “You.”

It was like getting the breath punched out of him. The man’s fierce grin was suddenly, intimately, familiar. Al couldn’t find words, he was too stunned. _Edward_.

Decades older than the teenager who’d been swept away two years ago. Angrier, and willing to do horrible things, but…it was _Ed_.

Edward took the metal tube that had been hanging from his wide belt, and thumbed a switch. A beam of red light bloomed from one end, like a sword. The invisible force turned Al over onto his front, and the sword of red light punched through the back of his armour like a knife through soft butter, drawing a circle that neatly separated the piece of armour where the soul array was drawn.  The world around Al went distant and muffled, but he could still see Ed and the others, though they all had a distinct blue glow around their edges. “Ed, no!” Alphonse cried, but if Ed heard him, he didn’t reply.

The piece of armour was set down on the ingredients, and before Alphonse could do anything at all, Ed clapped his hands together and knelt, putting his palms to the circle and starting the transmutation.

“ED!”

The world went white, and Alphonse was swept up in the alchemical fire, thrust into a furnace of elements and reactions. He tried to scream but had no breath, and then he knew nothing more.

* * *

Edward Elric, Sith Lord, let the Dark side settle, releasing his hold on the caustic energy.  He’d done it. He’d succeeded.  Alphonse lay in front of him, small chest rising and falling as the young human form lay unconscious.  

Al was perfectly formed, the transmutation handled with the attention to detail that Edward had cultivated for thirty years.  Al was, technically speaking, a homunculus, but he would never know it, unless things went truly, horribly wrong.  In every respect that Ed could manage, his brother was human.

It was the goal that had kept him going. Through an apprenticeship more torture than teaching, through Sith intrigues and horrors, through death and blood and treason, it had been the one thing Ed focused on.  Sure, it had felt good to kill his Master.  He could even admit that, twisted as he’d become, helping Revan and Malak kill the Emperor had given him real pleasure. But it had all been with this goal in mind – returning, and making good on his promise to his brother.

Shuffling forward on his knees, he picked Al up in a tender hold, cradling the pre-teen in arms made of metal and wire and synthetics Winry had never even dreamed of.  Alphonse was going to be so mad at him when he woke up.

Edward could hardly wait.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, Ed and Al have quite a reunion ahead of them. I have no idea what the situation is with various FMA happenings re: Furhrer Bradley, war, the homunculi, etc, but Ed would definitely be a giant spanner in those plans.
> 
> Ed is down to one flesh and blood leg - all his other limbs are prosthetic.
> 
> Ed can build most of a lightsaber, but can’t duplicate the crystal, also lightsabers require years of training (unless you’re a prodigy like Luke or Rey) and relatively good Force sensitivity to master, so no Al with a lightsaber (at least not for a few years yet)
> 
> Also, if you noticed that Ed’s language was a bit stilted, that’s intentional. If you don’t use a language you start to forget it, and Ed’s been away from his world for three decades. Plus, he didn’t have anyone to speak the language with except maybe using it as a secret language with some droids like ThreeDee. Take it from me, he’s going to lose some proficiency. It'll smooth back out again as he's around people who actually speak the language.


End file.
